Jamie Thompson Stern, a second-generation [1] Californian, always knew she wanted a career in show business, but had only the vaguest idea about how to make that happen. So she appeared in every play in high school, [2] worked as a cast member at Disneyland, [3] and performed in dinner theatre in Orange County. [4] Those experiences led absolutely nowhere. Still enchanted with the entertainment industry but having realized she was a terrible actress, [5] she graduated from U.C.L.A. with a degree in English literature. [6] She then tried out various careers in "the business," from international film distribution [7] to cable television programming [8].
Finally she discovered feature film development, a movie industry job she realized was perfectly suited to English majors. [9] Beginning at an earnest but struggling literary talent agency, [10] she segued into executive positions at production companies with deals at studios including Universal, Twentieth Century Fox, and Castle Rock. She spent the next fifteen years reading screenplays, optioning properties, hiring writers, [11] diplomatically finessing their work, [12] and feeling the magic as films came to life from the printed page.
After briefly ankling [13] the business to raise her kids, she now works as a writer, editor, and script consultant; and as Managing Editor at Knock Knock, a gift, stationery, and book publishing company in Los Angeles, California.
Notes:
[1] Possibly third generation. Her gold-miner grandfather claimed to have been born in five different states including California.
[2] "Oklahoma," "Fiddler on the Roof," "Don't Drink the Water," and "Li'l Abner." Yep, Daisy Mae.
[3] Her actual job title was "Main Street Floater" and despite the rather vulgar name, the position merely required her to work at whatever Disneyland emporium needed her that day.
[4] At age eighteen, she played eight shows a week alternating the roles of "Louisa" (age fourteen) and "Liesl" (sixteen going on seventeen) in "The Sound of Music." There is possibly no more depressing phrase than "dinner theatre in Orange County."
[5] She took one real acting class and fled after the first week, having been unable to cry on cue.
[6] Had to get a degree in something, and she loved to read, so . . .
[7] The rather shady company's business mainly consisted of telexing instructions to couriers in South America who literally bicycled--yes, on bicycles--B-movies in film cans from one city to another. And she's still not sure it wasn't a front for the Medellin cartel.
[8] A short-lived cable channel that tried to create twenty hours of programming a day without paying for any content. They soon stopped paying all the employees but asked them to continue working "until the overseas funding comes through." These experiences gave Jamie a good idea of what the bulk of the film industry is built on--outrageous lies and empty hype.
[9] Much to the shock of her parents, who always wondered, "What on earth will she do with a degree in English literature?"
[10] Which shall remain nameless. The owner--one of the only agents in history with both integrity and taste--went out of business after investing most of the company's money with a fraudulent psychic advisor. Integrity, taste, and common sense in Hollywood? Pick two, and be grateful.
[11] You know the writers' joke about development executives, a largely female bunch? "D-girls--they won't say no, they can't say yes."
[12] Which means delicately suggesting to the writer why the script doesn't work while simultaneously offering guidance on improving it yet not actually presuming to rewrite it herself. (Sometimes it's already brilliant, which, when it happens, makes the job considerably easier.)
[13] "Ankling" is Daily Variety's slanguage for "leaving." See http://variety.com/static-pages/slanguage-dictionary/.
